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The Voice of the Pine 



THE VOICE 

OF 
THE PINE 



By 
CHARLES AUGUSTUS SCHUMACHER 




New York 

R. H, RUSSELL, Publisher 
igoi 






THE LIBRARY OF 

CONGRESS, 
Two Copies Received 

MAY. 11 1901 

^ COPVSIGHT ENTRV 

CLASS @LxX& No. 

COPY 3. 

'■" ■ ■■—II, i»jl 



Copyright y 1901, i?y 
Charles Augustus Schumacher 



The Trow Print, New York 



Betrtcation 



/Tm^htxt i^ a pine— l^otD mp fjeart fenoto^ bj^erel- 
^5L^ ^itf) IJair all tangleti tip tlje carele^^ pear^, 
€l^at came a Ijuntireti gap anti founti it tljere, 
^nii Iau0l)in0 jGfo l)ati mWth jt^ Ijeart of tear^Gf* 

5F cfianceb tljat iuap, nor tireameti it ^acreU ^j>ot, 
2B>xit tDljen a boice came fortf) anti ^pokt to me, 
^ tdontier gretu; anti pet tfje pearjGf Ifteatti not, 
€6ou0l) tljep Ijati pa^ef^eti tl^at hjap for a centurp* 

^nti ^Ijall gf tell pou tul)at it ^aiti to me? 
#nlp tW* <25lorp linger^ in tlje Wm, 
€l)ou0l^ ^un 10 gone, anti ^hp Iienti^ clo^e to ^ea 
f oreijermore; anti jefilence i^ tfie re^eft 




CONTENTS 

Page 

With Thee! 9 

From the Valley lo 

Waiting 1 1 

Spring 12 

Summer 13 

Autumn 14 

Winter 15 

Morning 16 

Noon 17 

Night 18 

Sea 19 

The Sea's Secret 20 

Mountains 21 

Moon 22 

Music 23 

The Open Grate 24 

May-Time 25 

Arbutus 26 

The Morning Star 27 

Inspiration 28 

The Lake 29 

My Garden 30 

At Rest 32 

Communion 33 

When By Night the Shepherds Watched . 34 

The Days After 35 

Suggestiveness 36 

7 



CONTENTS 



Page 

Childhood 37 

Baby's Kiss 38 

Fame . 40 

Old Love-Letters 41 

God 43 

The Woman of My Dreams 44 

Day Dreams 45 

Onward 46 

The Quest 47 

Mine 48 

Once 50 

Robin's Song 51 

Over Seas 52 

But Yesterday 53 

To-morrow 54 

Life 56 

Sorrow ^y 

Death 58 

Love 59 

Beyond 60 

My Chief Musician 61 

Two Evenings 65 

First Evening ........ 68 

Second Evening 74 

Fulbert : 

L Vengeance 81 

IL Revelation 84 

in. Youth and Age 87 

IV. Happiness 94 

V. Mercy 100 

The Voice of the Pine 104 

8 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



WITH THEE! 




jEART of the wandering breeze, 
Could I teach my fingers call 

A music from the trees, 
Like distant waters' fall, 

I would with thee, with thee! 



Soul of the restless sea. 

Could I feel my breast but heave, 
As though God spoke to me, 

I never more could grieve, 
But be with thee, with thee! 

Spirit beyond the sun. 

When the silence folds in peace 
And length of days is done, 

How life shall still increase, 
At last with thee, with thee! 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



FROM THE VALLEY 



ILLS, with your wooded crests, 
Where the silence rests, 
And the drifted snows shine through, 
My soul climbs up to you. 




10 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



WAITING 



jHEN I awoke and found it day, 
Could I be sad? 
Over the fields a little way, 
A step or two where trees are tall, 
Then hand shall wave so fairy small, 
And O so low a voice shall call — 
Then, heart, be glad! 




II 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 




SPRING 

NCE the winds were sighing, 
Woods and fields replying: 
Sunbeams came — 
Hearts of flame — 
And whispered things 
That water sings — 

But who shall name! 

Blossoms hushed and listened, 
Eyes saw out and glistened — 
And they heard 
Every word. 
And lived so true. 
And so would you, 
If you had heard. 



12 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 




SUMMER 

jRE those fields Elysian 
Fairer, full in vision, 
Than are these? 
Are there trees 
Some other-where 
That lift in air 

Such majesties? 

How the clouds go sailing, 
Silver wings availing 

Through and through 
Endless blue, 
And magic nights 
With moon's long lights 
Make world anew! 



13 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



AUTUMN 



|OODS are browed with wonder, 
Sunsets linger under 
All the sky — 
Soon are by — 
And the gold is still 
To the wind's own will 

When sunsets die. 




Wail and woe are waking, 
Shoreless seas are breaking 
Over all; 
Shadows tall 
Blind every star, 
And help is far, 
Though voices call. 



14 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



WINTER 



|OICES low were hymning, 
When the twilight, dimming. 
Changed to dark ; 
Never lark 
Made song so fair — 
Came stealing care — 

And O I hark! 




Stars are very tender. 
Moon is calm with splendor 
And delight: 
But the night 
Is drear and long, ' 
And far is song, 
Far morning's light. 



IS 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



MORNING 



jONDER on the mountains, 
Fair the rainbow fountains 
Of the day 
Leap and play, 
So wondrously; 
And on the lea 

Lies silver spray. 




All the flame is bright'ning — 
What a dazzling lightning — 
Now the sun! 
Splendor none, 
In dreams, like this. 
And then the bliss 
That night is done ! 



•i6 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



NOON 

|REES have ceased their swaying, 
Winds are gone a-Maying ; 
Birds asleep 
Silence keep, 
And dream when song 
Their hearts shall throng, 

As waves the deep. 

Soon shall be their waking, 
Shadows cool forsaking 
For the sky; 
Up and high 
Away they'll wing. 
Such raptures fling 
That never die. 




17 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 




NIGHT 

EST is all a splendor ! 
Crimsons deep and tender 
Gleam and glow, 
Changing so, 
In flame like fire. 
And wild desire, 

Now soft and low. 

Clouds with gray are blended — 
Is the glory ended? — 
Lo, a star! 
Star on star, 
And all the blue 
Is born anew, 
Nor heaven far! 



i8 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 




SEA 

JUNSHINE-CROWNED, snow-crested, 
Wonder-waves, unrested. 
Laugh and leap, 
I Surge and sweep, 

And fill my soul, 
And make me whole. 

Here with the deep. 

Wind-swept, hoar, and soundless. 
Ancient, grave, and boundless, 
O thou sea, 
Ever be 
As near as now. 
And guard the vow 
That chastens me! 



19 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



THE SEA'S SECRET 

NCE I wandered questless, 
Sped, and worn, and restless. 
O'er the strand — 
There in sand, 
Where ocean rolls, 
Were ancient scrolls, 

Unwrit of hand. 

Low I bowed me, dreaming. 
Till the sea-birds, screaming. 
Waked the sea; 
Wild and free 
It loosed its might. 
Made wild the night. 
Then laughed at me. 




20 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 




MOUNTAINS 

REAT, wide, pine-voiced ranges, 
Where the shadow changes 
Dark to blue — 
Once with you, 
Who could forget. 
When sun is set, 

That something new! 

When the lightning flashes, 
And the thunder crashes 
Overhead, 
Tempest-wed 
Stand you, grand, calm — 
Still hymning psalm 

When storm is sped. 



21 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



MOON 

I HERE the pines make cresting, 
And a place of resting, 
As for prayer, 
Stars are there, 
And other light — 
So magic white. 

And wondrous fair. 

Fair as sail that gleameth 
When the sun's white streameth 
Out of noon, 
Cometh soon — 
(And could it stay, 
As now, alway!) — 

The great, wide moon! 




22 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 




MUSIC 

ITHER Cometh stealing, 
Closer than close feeling, 
Wonder thing, 
Like the spring — 
Some dream of yore- 
Love evermore — 

Earth vanishing! 

Ah, no! vanished gladness. 
Soul is waked to sadness; 
Gone the fears, 
Gone in tears — 
That I might live! 
Far, fair Thou^ give 
Me other years ! 



23 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



THE OPEN GRATE 

ERRY flames up-flowing, 
All fine fancies glowing, 
Peace untold ! 
There, behold! 
The crimson bends, 
Finds light and ends, 

And now is gold. 

Only faintest flashes — 
Stained and crumbling ashes — 
Out and chill! 
Memory still 
Dreams on the dreams — 
Close some one seems — 
Must wait until — ! 




24 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



MAY-TIME 



I HEN the morn was hushing, 
Something, Hke the rushing 
As of seas — 
Melodies — 
Swept o'er the world, 
And Life^ dew-pearled, 

Stirred on the leas. 




Crimson snows were resting 
Over song and nesting, 
Skies were near, 
And the Year 
Waked with a start. 
Throbbed wild of heart — 
For May was here! 



25 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



ARBUTUS 



jRE the world is knowing 
Where are roses blowing, 
Ere the May- 
Drifts the spray 
Of blossoms fair 
A-whirl in air. 

O'er hills, away! 




Virgin snows a-drifting, 
Sunlit clouds a-rifting, 

Are not white, — 
And the light 
Is not so dear, — 
As something here 

Breaks on the sight. 



26 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 




THE MORNING STAR 

[ONDROUS in thy beaming, 
Fairer than all dreaming, 
Thou art fair; 
And if prayer 
Could make thee stay. 
Long would I pray — 

O linger there! 

When life's night is lifting, 

And the stars are drifting 

Far away. 

When the day 

Breaks full and strong, 

Shall I thus long 

For night to stay? 



27 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



INSPIRATION 



jHE west is cold with gold, 
And fading into gray; 
The work is done 
For toiling sun, 
And ended is the day. 



The hills are still and chill. 
In ages clad and might; 
The river's song 
Drifts along 
And mingles with the night. 

The winds are lone and moan, 
And leafless every tree ; 
The world is far 
As yonder star — 
No voices come to me. 

And I am glad and sad, 

Alone with earth and sky; 
A new rare gleam 
Of wide life's dream 
Trembles there on high. 

A thing divine and mine. 
Unfolding to my sight; 
A peace and prayer 
And spirits' care, 
A light inflaming night! 



28 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



THE LAKE 

INDLESSLY, wavelessly sleeping, 
How happy thou, fair lake! 
Never, never knowing 
The sorrow of hearts that break. 



Peacefully on thy bosom 
The fragrant lilies lie ; 
I gathered for my love 
As we were drifting by. 

To pluck the whitest, fairest, 
Once again I came; 
In her hair I twined them — 
And life is not the same. 

Never missing thy lilies. 
How happy thou, calm lake: 
From thy silent slumbers 
Never, never wake! 



29 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



MY GARDEN 

|N yonder eastward hill my garden blooms; 
There roses blush, 
And winds now hush, 
And beauty tarries nigh 
To save what else would die; 
While downy mist of trees up-looms 
Athwart a hazy sky. 

I have not labored there nor cared for it; 

When June was prime, 

In summer-time, 

Where waves lap on the shore 

I mused, nor longed for more ; 
But now apart, alone, and far I sit. 

And gaze my garden o'er. 

The roses blooming there are June's, but time 

Has filched from spring, 

And now must fling 

Them far and wantonly 

O'er grass and field and tree: 
But fairest are, O faith sublime ! 

In my garden free. 

It seemeth yesterday that naught was there; 

To-day the new 

Enchants my view ; 

Though morrow too shall come, 

And all my garden dumb 
With old year's age shall stand but bare, 

I know new year will come. 

30 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

When late and autumned age shall come to me, 

Before life's snows, 

May some fair rose, 

Saved from my youth's own prime. 

Bring back my summer time. 
And morrow merge in memory. 

And faith still hold sublime ! 



31 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 




AT REST 

GED and weary of life! 
As lonely as sea isles, 
As sadly as death smiles 
Over the morning of life, 
He dwelled apart, 
Worn, sad of heart, 
Weary of life. 



Loved ones were calling him home! 
As softly as winds sigh. 
As stilly as birds fly, 
Deeps then were wooing him home ; 
And happy he 
In melody. 
Wafting him home. 

Long had he sighed for No-more! 
As slowly as tides flow. 
As calmly as rainbow 
Fades into cloud mist once more. 

In fulness deep, 

In calmest sleep. 
Came the No-more. 



32 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



COMMUNION 

HERE'S a silence of the sea 
That comforts me, 
When the wind 's asleep 
Upon the deep. 



There's a stillness in the night, 
When stars are bright. 
That is more than words 
And song of birds. 

There's a calm of perfect rest, 
That I love best, — 
When the Spirit stirs 
Pure worshippers ! 




33 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



WHEN BY NIGHT THE SHEPHERDS 
WATCHED 



N the golden days of old, out of perfect blue, 
Where by night the shepherds watched when 

their lives were true, 
A star was bom, and guided them 
Over the plains to Bethlehem. 



There the wondering shepherds saw One with glory 

crowned, 
Fairer than the lilies fair, calm as seas profound. 
And such a joy came unto them 
Under the stars in Bethlehem ! 

Should it ever come to us, star in night's blue sky, 
Star that guided them, we would never wonder why 
A joy seemed Hke a voice to them 
That watched by night near Bethlehem ! 




34 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 




THE DAYS AFTER 



HE ripples seemed a-calling, 

The sun was up, 
And rosy beams were falling 
In a lily's cup. 



The white and gold I plundered, 

And scattered free, 
By waves so soon were sundered, 

Drifting out to sea. 

The lily's fair adorning, 

All gone from me; 
But the fragrance and the morning 

Cling, still cling to me ! 



35 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



SUGGESTIVENESS 

T the ending of the day, 
When the last and richest ray 
Of the sunset fades away 

Into the night, 
There softly come to me 
Dreams, the fairest and the rarest, 
Of that world-old mystery — 
The life beyond the sea. 

'Mid the silence of the graves. 
In the moaning of the waves, 
When the wind so fiercely raves 

Along the shore. 
There blend in harmony 
Sounds, the sweetest and the deepest, 
Of a soul-warm melody 
From far across the sea. 

In the kisses of a child. 
When the memory is beguiled 
By its love thoughts into mild 

Forgetfulness, 
There flit so stilly by 
Forms, the truest and the purest, 
Who know all the mystery 
Beyond the silent sea! 



36 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 




CHILDHOOD 

|]OW often in the early days, 
And happy days, 
That were as fair as chastened 

Whiteness of the purest foam, 
I have hurried, swiftly hastened, 
O'er the meadows, through the shadows 
And the darkness of the night. 
To that ever welcome light, 
Star-like beaming, brightly gleaming 
In the window of my home. 

When southland winds came sighing low, 

And all the snow 
Was fading into flowers ; 

When the spring smiled on the lea. 
And the birds sang through the hours, 
O how quaintly and how faintly 

Murmured then the streams to me 
As they ran on gleefully 
With such tripling haste, fast rippling 
To the great heart of the sea! 

Then life was joy, and dream, and song; 

Nor deep nor long 
Was its remembered sorrow: 

Death seemed closing of the eyes 
That would open on the morrow — 
Not a feeling one was stealing 

Softly onward where strong love 
Ne'er can follow, far above 
To supernal peace eternal 

In the silence of the skies. 
37 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



BABY'S KISS 

NTWINE those close warm arms of thine, 
And kiss no more, my babe, for mother's 

heart 
To-night is weary of this dreary life: 
For other lips than thine I feel on mine, 

And I would fain forget this cheerless strife. 

Thou close thine eyes and when the blushes start 

Along the hills and morning thrills 

With music of the seaward streams. 

Then kiss deep slumber from my dreams." 

Beyond the circle of the night, 

Beyond the lonely haunts of deepest star, 

Calm sleep comes swiftly musing down and rests, 

As gently as the last low fading light 

Of evening bends the wooded mountain crests. 

Upon those baby lids that softer are 

Than rose's lip and lily's tip. 

And fragrant murmurs of the air 

Sweetly pillow that moon-bathed hair. 

" How soon asleep when life is all 
A-blossom, and the moon will leave the sky 
To whisper fa.iry worlds like that ! But I — 
That he would come from out the shadows tall, 
No cold close earth about him, heaven high 
Upon his brow, and love that cannot die. 
And I could rest upon his breast. 
Enfolded in his arms as sea 
Enfolds her isles eternally ! " 

38 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Wake, mother, wake ! The day-crowned sun 
Has long stood at the casement, low and vined, 
To give the greeting baby promised thee ; 
The noiseless stars were fading one by one, 
Those lips were close on thine, the arms entwined 
Thy brow, when snowy wings swept o'er the sea. 
And yet were strong, though journeyed long, 
Far brighter too than dawn's deep bars, 
And baby faded with the stars. 



39 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



FAME 

HEN night was crowned with stars, a vision 
came 
To One in prayer, and Ufted up his soul; 
In after-time a Seeker found a scroll, 
And love was there, and glory, but no name. 



40 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



OLD LOVE-LETTERS 



HERE came to me in ancient heritage, 
From those that loved it, a golden lute 
Which evermore is still 
Beside the missal and a faded flower. 



One golden hour, 

When stars were drifting over hill. 

And bird and broken flute 

Were hushed in night, as though a Mage 

Were calling came a golden face, 

Brow-swathed in golden hair, 

And bowed above the lute, and seemed in prayer; 

Then hand leaped up and smote the strings, 

And music, flushing as the day flings 

Fires in the dawn, rose, and the grace 

Of song was blended in, until it seemed as peace. 

And then I saw one standing rapt, 

As though the seas lapped 

At his feet, and all his gaze was over seas; 

A light from heaven was on his brow, 

His lips were framing vow 

To fold round her through God's eternities 

Love's endless peace. 

Times enough unrest possesses me, 
And yearning for those heaven-things 
The soul makes haven for ; and then 
I think to lay my hand along the strings 
And loose the voice and make it free 
To sing to me of peace, 

41 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



But should I waken once again 

Some melody that waits 

Within the silence there, it would not be the sonj 

That passed from heaven's gates, 

Slipped o'er the bar, 

And murmured as a sea. 

And made them glad so long 

Ago — for they are far. 

And only lute remains with me. 

So evermore the golden lute is still 
Beside the missal and a faded flower. 



42 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



GOD 

HEN life had lost its charm and light, 
And the soft, far song of the skyey lark 
Had faded in the hollow night, 
A hand had touched me in the dark. 



It seemed as new as the thrill of love, 
As long as endless last good-bye. 

As deep as the gloomy sky above — 
And then I knew it was God and I. 




43 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



THE WOMAN OF MY DREAMS 



HE was so fair, the woman of my dreams, 
So fair the stars would tangle in her hair. 

And moonbeams all astray from over streams 
Would ripple on her lips contented there. 



But when she went away she went so far, 
And all the light went drifting from the hill, 

And nevermore seems fair the Evening Star, 
And nevermore a kiss when lips are still. 




44 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



DAY DREAMS 

FTEN when rm dreaming, 
Strangely seeming 
Near the lonely haunts of Poesy, 
I deeply long to whisper — 
Only whisper — 
Half the nameless ecstasy 
That is so much like heaven to me. 

Then a music, thrilling 

Like the trilling 
Of a leaf-embowered bird, sweeps o'er 
Me, leaving rare confusions, 

Sweet illusions, 
In my soul of something more 
Like life than I have lived before. 

Visions, pure and holy. 

Rising slowly 
With a beauty of unnumbered years, 
Come bringing boundless measure 

Of deep pleasure. 
Till fade sea and land and fears. 
With naught left me of earth but tears. 



45 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



ONWARD 

ONDER on the mountains^ night 
Upriseth dark and still : 
Yet, deeper in the west, 

Beyond the summit pines that thrill i 

With mem'ries of the spray's kiss, * 

And the day's bliss. 
There remaineth warm, fair light. | 

Wooing gurgling melody 

From foam-wreathed rocks, the stream 

Runs wildly on. No rest 

Awaits it; but a richer gleam 

Shall ever flash and quiver 

O'er the river. 
Growing softer near the sea. 

Youth, uncertain, stands where ways 
Divide, hears voices sweet. 
Far-mingled. When the quest 
Is ending and the shadows fleet 
Move eastward, age, all tearless, 

Calm and fearless. 
Finds one meaning in the days. 

Onward, ever onward, are 
Increasing beauties. Life, 
Rose-like, unfolds, and best 
Of joy, e'en after long, strong strife, 
Outruns our clasping fingers, 

And yet lingers. 
Sweetly calling from afar. 

46 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



THE QUEST 



TWILIGHT, art thou never weary, ever 

Longing for the day that goes, 

Swift, fair, before thee ? How it wooes thee on ! 

What worlds of beauty oft it crowds 

On mountain brows, and in the clouds 
Breathes crimsons deeper than the rose — 
Calling, softly calling thee, and then is gone ! 




I, too, have felt such burning anguish, yearning 

Long for soul-truth, seeking far 

Along the shore among the shells that blush 

Sea-secrets, list'ning 'neath the pines 

When falling snow about them twines 

A voiceless grandeur and a hush — 

Catching but a gleam like that when star greets star. 

Yet surely life is rarer, visions fairer 

For all noble striving; we 

Become like that we seek at last, and cease 

To strive; a calm then as of streams. 

Wrapt in their strange, still winter dreams. 

Shall fill us, and — deep mystery — 

Truth shall claim her own in purity and peace. 



47 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 




MINE 

OU see that woman standing yonder, eyes 
As high as love can reach? The world's one 
heart 
Is there, and she's my own. You smile and rise : 
Just sit and let me draw her with my art. 



You see no rose and lily in her face, 
And youth is gone, and there's a silver gray; 

The queenly lines that give a maiden grace 
Are lost in womanhood : the curve 's away. 

Now, nature loves her curves, and ever rounds 
Her beauty thus: the absence argues lack, — 

Among the rocks of mountain gold abounds, 
And from its crags a voice may echo back. 

Those fleecy clouds that sweep before the wind, 
Observed more closely, show beneath a bank 

Of heavy clouds not moving: far behind 
The blue remains — morns dawning rank on rank. 

These ripples, curve succeeding curve, belie 
The current's course, which never heeds the blast ; 

They trip a pleasing measure, soon are by, 
But it flows on and finds the sea at last. 



My trend is clear; my subjects serve my end: 
The surface never is the heart. We know 

A wondrous something deep within our friend 
That's finer than the touch of things and show. 



48 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



There, see ! She bends her brow on me ! That white 
Is rare, and full of soul, and grows on you ; 

As in the clouds there glows a softened light, 
And deepens till the deep-browed moon 's in view. 

Ah! You have caught the charm, the spirit's spell. 
That's larger than the life? Love's greatness lies 

In strength to wait love's fullness; it is well: 
Nor haste nor prayers avail much. Shall we rise? 



49 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



ONCE 

HEART once beat for me, 

So fond and free; 
And hands once smoothed my brow, 

Not now, not now! 



A voice spake soft and low, 
And moved me so. 

When life was rich and new. 
And love was true. 

Then music filled my days. 

And work was praise- 

O could it come again. 

As then, as then! 




SO 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 




ROBIN'S SONG 

Y heart was glad all yesterday, 
And flown my brooding care, 
And I was ever far away: 

For suddenly from air 
Sang robin merrily 
The year's first song for me. 

The snows no more lay on the hills. 

The winds were fair and free, 
Awake the music of the rills, 

And low a distant sea 
Sighed through an orchard lawn, 
Where light glowed like the dawn. 

For there beneath the blossoms fair — 

The white I love so much — 
A voice was low beyond compare, 

And soft as air a touch — 
Sweet memories are long. 
And sweet is robin's song! 



51 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



OVER SEAS 

HEN last I saw the moon, 
With face so fair and all of gold, 
'Twas not where Avon's youth grows old 
I saw the moon. 



But far beyond the seas, 
Along the hills that crown a lake, 
I waited for its light to break, 
Beyond the seas. 

And when it came at last — 
A glory flooding through the trees- 
I had no thought of over seas, 
When it came at last. 




52 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 




BUT YESTERDAY 



MPTY a wayside nest, 
Its old-time song is still ; 
But winds they never rest, 
And merry is the rill. 



Only a scrolless stone, 

A bush where roses blush; 
Though winds should sometimes moan, 

The rill will never hush. 

Folded and calm the hands, 

And just a moment gone ; 
The east is girt with bands, 

And day is all at dawn. 

Ever to leave the old. 

And journey to the new ; 
To vanish through the gold. 

And then beyond the blue. 

Perfect the law, I deemed. 

For man must die to be — 
But broken all I dreamed. 
When death had come to me! 



53 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



TO-MORROW 




HE golden day is ending, 
And gracious dews descending. 
Soul, for thee; 
Thou shalt be 
So soon alone, 
Where waves make moan 
O'er glooming sea. 

The last sweet hour is flying, 
And voices low are dying 
Into night; 
Far is flight 
When thou set'st sail — 
Nor prayers avail. 

Ere dawning light. 

II 

Think you I'm forgetting — 
Now that sun is setting — 
Seas divide, 
Worlds beside — 
Forgetting now 
When moon's great brow 
Lifts on the tide? 

Think you I'm not feeling — 
With the stars revealing 
Heaven's blue — 
Feeling you. 
Where'er you are. 
Whatever star 

Breathes down on you? 

54 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

III 

Still the tides go flowing — 
But my heart is knowing 
Worlds away- 
One may pray, 
And sleep in prayer, 
To waken there! 

At break of day. 



55 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



LIFE 

MELLOW Instrument, and Master-willed, 
Once waked as from a dream, made music low 
And sweet, until a Hand, in evening's glow. 
Was laid along the strings, and all was stilled. 



56 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



SORROW 

NE Golden Day, when birds were on the wing, 
A Wind arose and laid the Glory bare; 
And One raised eyes, and saw not anywhere 
A sign that Earth should waken with the 
Spring. 



57 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



DEATH 

N Ancient Ocean lapped along the shore, 
And Pilgrim, seeking shrine across the seas, 
Came down and stood, and dreamed of 1 

mysteries, 
And sailed away, and came again no more. 



58 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



LOVE 

FTER the flush of sunset came a star 
And fashioned in the blue a glory there, 
And all adown the night and everywhere 
Were stars and glory, and God enthroned afar. 



59 







THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



BEYOND 

!BOVE the hills such mornings rose and nights, 
And in the valley One with burdens bowed 
Took heart and climbed the heights the crimsons 

browed, 
And, wearied so, saw yet beyond more lights. 



60 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



MY CHIEF MUSICIAN 



TRAINS of music swelling, 
And the tears will start; 
Like sea's fountains welling, 
Tides rise in my heart. 



Earth and heaven are stealing 

Blended over me — 
O there 's no revealing 

Music's mystery! 

So the stars seem yearning 
To tell world mysteries — 

Silent they are burning 
Over silent seas. 




6i 



i 



Two Evenings 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



TWO EVENINGS 

IS night; rich, wondrous night that thrills with 

light; 
A matchless beauty runs before the sight; 
The stars suspend a fairy arch of dreams, 
And all the world 's at rest; the bright-eyed 
streams, 
That trip and slip along their pebbled way. 
Serenely gleam, and mirror heaven now; 
Along their willowed margin shadows play, 
Coquet in mystic shape of leaf and bough. 
Till e'en the wind in joy is caught, 
And merry days of yore come surging back unsought. 

Among the ^reat still clouds that grandly lie 

All silver-white along the bending sky — 

So children wonder why they never fall — 

The full-browed moon appears, o'er-silvers all, 

Across the azure deep benignly beams. 

And seems to lean a little nearer earth 

To give some warning ere the morning streams 

Across the world that wakes to new day's mirth; 

A face to love and worship long 

It bends above the flooding heart that breaks in song. 

The winging birds have never sighed nor stirred, 
Their sunset song of praise no longer heard — 
That warm up-leaping joy that fills the breast 
For newer life that ever crowns the nest — 
Since maiden-blushing, lightly-stepping Day 
Untwined her hair and sank to songless sleep. 
Faint wooing murmurs come from far away, 
In swaying melody her safely keep, 

65 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Nor knows she of the morrow's lot. 

For waking now is done, and changing scenes forgot. 

Long years before, between two sister trees, — 

Now old and weary of the wanton breeze. 

And ever bending lower o'er the stream 

To find their old companionship and dream 

Of days gone by and know again the grace 

Of youth, — forgotten hands had shaped a bank 

For roses and a bower and trysting place, 

Where gracious love bloomed forth from friendship frank, 

Where troth was plighted, and the bliss 

Of heaven-dwelling souls was compassed by a kiss. 

Stem, prayer-unheeding time, that slowly moves 

When winged haste were merciful, and proves 

As swift as destiny when joy appeals 

For moment-pausing, very kindly deals 

With lovers' haunts, and weaves a magic spell 

Of memories, and half-forgotten sighs. 

And golden hopes, around that mossy dell 

Where lovers' feet in rhythm ever rise 

Along love's mystic way, which bends 

And trends so beautiful, and in the sunset ends. 

The restless whirl of changing hope and fear 

Has aged the world, and given to its sere 

Maturity a deeper-silvered brow; 

Once rounded tear-wet mounds are levelled now 

To dry and even earth again, and seem 

None richer for their long-committed trust; 

In brightest June the marble's midday gleam 

Bestows on honored life no tribute just, — 

Not half its due, — and waiteth still 

To mix its moss-grown secret with the laughing rill. 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

All, all is changing, changed, save this one place, 

Which as it was remains, with just a trace 

Of peace and sadness mingled deep and still; 

The falling leaves that die, and new life's thrill. 

In endless progress, ever come and go, 

And touch it lightly; strongly those departed 

Must yet remember mellow eyes aglow. 

And bending skies, when here strong love up-started 

From out some deep eternity. 

And breathed upon them breaths of immortality. 

This radiant night, from out the sleeping town 

A youth and maid come slowly winding down. 

In silence, hand in hand; beneath their feet 

The sands unclasp and start away and meet 

Again when they have passed; the grasses bend. 

The dews dislodge, and breaths of meadow land. 

Where liHes mingle, fold them to the end 

In hush and saintly peace. At last they stand 

Within the water's kindly light, 

Where yesterdays had wrapped their souls in rare delight. 

As quietly as light rests on the hills. 

Calmly as sea's heart hushing rippling rills. 

These two this ancient bower kindly holds. 

Caressing them as all the past unfolds; 

Other hours than this, days of perfect bliss. 

And one through-pleaded that the Hfe be spared, 

And all the nameless hopes to gain, to miss. 

Earth forces, heaven gleamings, life that dared. 

Make silence heavy on their lips. 

While still the river murmurs on, still westward slips. 



67 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

FIRST EVENING 

Herbert. Lucerne. 

Herbert. 
INE! 

Lucerne. 

Your arms around me give me peace; 
The circle of the world is not so wide. 

Herbert. 
Is this the hand? 

Lucerne. 
Your kiss is on it still. 

Herbert. 

Remember you how leaves were turning then, 

Those few of perfect crimson 'mid the green, 

As though a flame were fanned by vagrant winds? 

A thrilling joy went throbbing through the world, 

And on the gentle river we adrift 

Were one with it. Lo, there beyond the bend. 

Where pines hymn of the unreturning past. 

And winds that come across the seas alight, 

Appeared a lily, lone and beautiful. 

Among a stretch of lily-leaves that long 

Had sought through twihght-gleaming waters Hght; 

Amid those miles of moving leaves one lily, 

As pure and chaste as starlight, gleamed and waved. 

Lucerne. 

You twined it in my hair. 

68 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Herbert. 

A better home 
For it than all that waste of autumn waters ; 
Up-straying through the gold, your hand, with grace 
As wonderful as lily's, feeling how 
It hung, seemed bending for a kiss. The joy 
Of that great day, and you were mine forever! 

Lucerne. 
And then that evening on the sea. 

Herbert. 

How long 
Those bands of blood-red gold remained ; they clung 
And clung as though they would not die away. 
And then came night ! 

Lucerne. 

The way of it! Those clouds 
That crept like ripples up into the sky 
And made a sea above like that below; 
Their edge seemed for a moment, only one, 
A strand of silver sands. Then deep, dark night I 

Herbert. 

How deeply ran the darkling waves and strong; 
They seemed to feel a trust to keep us safe. 
And in the dark unknown that folded down 
I felt like lying on their heaving bosom 
To learn the secrets of the voiceless deep. 

Lucerne. 

E'en silent death seemed not so dread to come 
Up-stealing out the sea. 

69 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Herbert. 

Howe'er they rose, 
We thought life's storms should never carry us 
Beyond the harbor of our love. 

Lucerne. 

And now — 

Herbert. 
How often we have sat together thus. 

Lucerne. 

While sweetly weaving dreams and moon's soft charm 
Into a happy future, never once 
We saw the shadows. 

Herbert. 

Love is one with life; 
And ours sweeps infinite beyond the shadows, 
Resting in God's great light. Its changeless warmth 
Enfolds us as the sunshine holds the rose. 

Lucerne. 

Why vainly talk beyond the great one thing 
That is, whatever else has been or may. 
Sad, sad, is parting when the meeting's sure: 
But this uncertainty, this life-flamed war 
That sorrow waits upon — 

Herbert. 

My perfect love. 
The bee toils quite the same in youth and age. 
All wondrously; and from the bough the bird 

70 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Suspends its last nest like the first; the earth, 
That mother to a various family, 
Uprises from her silent winter couch. 
Unskilled to nourish richer life ; but we 
Work ever better after years and sorrow; 
Slow age gives mellowness to instruments 
Not more than sorrow chastens us. 

Lucerne. 

I fear 
The long sad days that keep you far from me 
Will make me wish that heaven-exile, Sorrow, 
Had over-stepped our earth, and ne'er with man 
Found resting place. 

Herbert. 

Indeed, not so: the earth 
Were heaven else, and souls, full-satisfied, 
Would have no winged reach beyond the now: 
He has not lived that never truly grieved. 
'Tis then that something of ourselves, — life, life, — 
Creeps in our work which, after we are gone. 
Shall live and live. No : death, and fading night. 
And then the everlasting morn ! 

Lucerne. 

Yes, true; 
I think I would not keep you if I could. 
With pale white, face, out-stretching both her arms, 
Truth pleads, your Country calls, and you shall go. 
But you will leave me something not myself; 
And though I stay, my spirit goes with you 
And there upon the many-widowed field 
Shall be with you in silent company, 
Forevermore. 

71 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Herbert. 

Much love has made you sad: 
A clearness in the waters makes the depth 
Deceptive: far seems near; and even so, 
When keener life goes pulsing through our veins, 
Earth's veil grows thin to half transparency; 
We seem to dimly see that other life 
Surrounding us of immortality. 
Believe me, 'tis a dream that passes soon. 
As shadows over wind-kissed, waving meadows. 
A moment thus; the next, slow steady life 
Comes back. 

Lucerne. 

The end I feel is only dream? 
You now are mine, but when I come again, 
And long for rest, the moon that smiles on me, 
That blesses, as to-night, this river's sleep, 
In some dark lonely spot the selfsame night. 
May bend above you, in your matted hair 
Sadly winding its silver fingers — dead ! 

Herbert. 

Dead ! Die ! I had not thought of it. This land, 

Rich, wide, fair, better than the far-ofif isles, 

I thought God's choice where man should learn man's worth ; 

In coming ages life should be sublime 

And worthy fellowship with all that's best; 

'Tis twilight now, but twihght of the dawn. 

I have dreamed of this long days and nights ! 

1 seemed to hear a mystic silent voice 

Speak words to me that I should tell the world. 
My days should lengthen till my task was done — 
But glory waits on truth, and first comes right. 
Die — dead! The world is governed well and holds 

12 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

One upward course, and ever some one steps 

Without the shadow, calling " light beyond ! " 

The sea with many voices, musing earth, 

The heavens flashing, chaunt the mighty song 

Of work and victory. The best will come. 

If I speak not, some higher heart will catch 

The melody and beckon grandly up. 

The world swings on. Yet all is gained through you. 

O you have lifted high my soul with love; 

Through you I deeper feel life's fearful worth — 

Lucerne. 

I'll seal the rest with kisses, and be brave ; 
And say, not you, that more than all the world 
I'll miss you, long to see you day and night. 
And pray with every breath for your return, 
While you give all you have to lift the world — 
Hark — one — two — 

Herbert. 

Midnight. Short, how short the night, 
A winged dream — we march at once — 

Lucerne. 

My own, 
Round thee be kept His everlasting arms ! 



73 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

SECOND EVENING 

(Years after.) 

Lucerne, 

^^IS night again, and like that other night; 

The moon and stars the same — they never age : 
Only hearts feel the breath of wings when Time 
Flits by. And yet it rather seems that night, 
No endless years passed by, my hand in his, 

My soul so happy, round us peace. O death. 

However close our eager fingers lock. 

Our arms enfold, the circle last holds thee! 
Yet hope was sweet in all the passing years, 

And faith grew strong, for God, who keeps the bird 

When Hghtnings seek it in the clouds, kept him. 

Then came a time the war was nearly done, 

And he was coming home once more to me. 

How I remember all those prayerful days ! 

One, one beyond the rest, stands queenly out : 

The morn was fair, and fair the afternoon. 

Till heavy clouds arose along the west, 

And towered o'er the sun, concealing it. 

But just before the night and day touched garments, 

Bright through a ragged rent of angry cloud 

The sun broke, flooding the earth with golden haze, 

And making all one light. How right it seemed 

To end a glorious cause triumphantly 

With day like that. 

All night I dreamed of him: 

I saw him coming o'er the meadow dales, 

Then wind along a stretch of shaded road. 

And stand at last across the river here, 

74 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Reaching a hand to me I almost clasped. 
And when his voice arose and brake the silence, 
More silvery than plash of distant waters, 
And calling me the name we chose as best, 
I wakened — and they said that he was dead! — 

How did I live those days that followed on, 
When morn and noon and eve nor arching blue 
Were wide enough to shelter him I loved? 
I thought, why live when all the world is empty? 
Why not go seek him when the tide sets out? 
And burdened with the weight of this blind will 
I hither fled to ask these ancient trees. 
We loved so much and trusted with our hopes, 
Were any better way than this one dark — 
But they spake not, were still; nor river spake, 
Though I descended to the margin's moss, 
And waited till the shadows mixed with dew. 
And I had lost the pain, had not a light 
From out the east flashed through the clouds, and burst 
In thousand splendors far adown the west, 
And shed a glory where I saw my home 
In soft low outlines melt beneath the glow. 
Fading over the hills. 

I never knew 
How I returned that night along the path 
Which ne'er should know his footstep as of yore. 
Called they who loved me out above that weight 
Of voices dim ? Came there some mystic hand. 
Whose touch was light as air, and led me on? 
Or was it life supreme was yet to live. 
And heaven's purpose stayed? Whatever way, 
I learned some little gracious time was left 
For them that loved me, and were old; but soon 
They tarried where the way seemed long, and slept; 
Love leaping at the finger tips was vain 
To keep a little sunshine in their hearts. 

75 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

And then the water's music rose again, 
Across the meadows, surging through the pines, 
In waves came lapping at my hillside home. 
Why flame my heart on altar now, I thought. 
Since they that worshipped here now live in truth. 

Why? Growth is overcoming; beauty, too. 
Force met, resisted, turned, results in growth: 
That solitary tree that's standing yonder 
Would once have bowed before the winds that leave 
It now with scarce a branch for booty: arm, 
Practiced, holds twice the weight it held last month; 
The flowers, trees, the mountains, man, e'er rise 
Under the weight of gravity; our pledge 
Of heaven is upward-reaching, far and long; 
'Tis God's high law of growth — through dark to Hght. 
Then heaven ! Wondrous change from earth to soul ! 
Not all at once, let's think, but steady climb ; 
First, feeling: there are moments when we feel 
The higher forces strangely near; friends come, 
And straightway glow and tingling find our hearts ; 
Should darkness grow, still magic is the spell ; 
Shut close the eyes when fading tones die out ; 
Deep in the central spheres of harmony 
The soul seems drifting on the endless strain, 
A vibrant joy. Rare states are these but real 
To shadow forth the age's sweep when soul 
Shall feel Hght, beauty, truth, and love, and God. 
Then sight shall come to see what once was felt — 
Eternal verities in changeless light. 
Last, being: one with truth eternally! 

All that was long ago. I now am old. 
And know the new-returning years conceal 
Why we should struggle helpless 'neath the sun. 
Who soon must naked step into the dark. 
Nor ask I now why live when all is gone : 

76 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

We somehow live to somewhat serve mankind. 

When robin came this year with early sun, 

And waked one morn in falling snow, it sang 

For summer; roses fade, but bush is calm 

In new year's faith ; the tree stands bare in winter, 

And harks for spring; and peaceful sinks the day, 

Though night is near, for morn shall come. All 's faith. 

No end! He saw truth — life is one with love! 

I loved so well, God was forgot; but all, 

All vanished, and He remained ; so much it cost 

To learn what fiowers, birds, know — live in God ! 

The sea, so changing, wanton with the winds. 

Now on some rocky coast loud thundering, 

Again in ancient numbers breathing low 

In music on the shore, is constant, too ; 

When God's hand beckons up, it waits and hears. 

All time fulfills itself. I wait for him 

In steadfast peace to know the truth of love; 

And should he come some summer night like this. 

When moon so kindly bends her gracious brow. 

And stand across the river there, and lift 

His voice of old, and bid me come to him — 

As Now ! 



77 



Fulbert 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



VENGEANCE 




Egbert. 
ASTER, I have a word I would with thee. 

FULBERT. 

Speak on. 

Egbert. 
They say that Abelard — 

FULBERT. 

Is wise 
Beyond the beardless years of youth, is great, 
With fame so wide that men have come from far 
To hear him discourse mighty thought. 

Egbert. 

Not that— 

FULBERT. 

Not that! Is it that regal form of his 
And stately bearing which the world admires? 
I hear that Paris cons his poetry. 
And sings his songs. 

Egbert. 
(Aside.) 'Tis hard to undeceive. 
And yet not that — the word I have is worse — 

Fulbert. 

Worse! I would have it so, in part; the man 
That has but spoken — good of him ne'er yet 

8i 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

With lofty aim has launched the shaft of truth. 
How say they, Abelard has secret foes? 

Egbert. 

My master, speech, that oft confines much truth, 
But never all, and never worst nor best. 
Is busy now concerning Abelard, 
And his unworthy love of Heloise — 

FULBERT, 

Egbert ! 

Egbert. 

If silence served, my lips were sealed, 
Be sure ; my pain is somewhat too — my pain ! 
Precautions taken timely work best cures. 
'Tis not, I think, what Abelard has done. 
But what he would: remove him, saving her. 

Fulbert. 

For years I trusted you, yet you must speak 
Dishonor of my house. 

Egbert. 

Stay! Lifted hand 
Should find its weight too great to raise 'gainst one 
Grown gray in service here. Think you the pain 
Is all for you? Have I forgotten her 
I twice have saved what time the sea was wild; 
Forgotten promise made in morning's mist, 
To someone dying, round her child to build 
Soul-high in battlements his utmost life? 

Fulbert. 

Good Egbert, cease ; I quite forgot your worth ; 
Such changes unexpected, dreamed much less 

82 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Than falling off of summer's heat to cold, 
Toppled reason down, overturned the world, 
Made foe of friend; forgive, and ravel out 
This web of current speech that I may know 
Its very heart. 

Egbert. 

They say that Abelard, 
Whom you have entertained, has cherished long 
Unworthy ends from his relations here. 
The story runs that he to compass them 
Laid under tribute beauty, voice, his fame, 
Even philosophy; before the door, 
Your hand unbarred, afforded watchless entrance. 
He planned and tricked to find his way within ; 
His object, being near to Heloise. 
You thought his wisdom unalloyed with earth, 
And proudly made him master of her studies ; 
While he — but let him speak man's way, no less ! 
I promised that. 

FULBERT. 

Why late reveal this danger. 
When earlier news had checked its heading so? 

Egbert. 

I could believe no stain on wisdom's dome, 
Nor virtue weak — but now the trend is clear. 

FULBERT. 

Long years in service make you true. Go ! go ! 
O Heloise, to this ! 



83 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



II 

REVELATION 




FULBERT. 

(By the river, alone.) 
jY only friend! Exceeding rich is life 

When man must say of river, that ! Out, out ! 

Twere better not to be. A niggard thrift 

To save myself to learn such truth at last ; 

Rare wisdom, caring for a candle's light, 
And here at hand to snuff it out blind fate ! 
Life's game when played leaves player wondrous gain, 
If mightily he cares for frustrate hopes, 
For chances vain, and fortunes never real. 
But yesterday how good great God's fair world ! 
To-day man mars it, God past finding out. 
Man? — Death pays death: what other price is left? 
Who mars must pay, who pays has balanced all. 
What better place than this that life meet death; 
For here began, here ends, what I thought life. 
My boyish feet made friends with every rush 
That sleeps to-night above the river's sleep; 
These trees have spread above me arms as now 
For near a century ; the river yonder 
Was ever kind : and out of this there grew 
A hope that somewhere waited perfect joy, 
Would surely welcome me whene'er I came. 
Now, after many days, with end in sight, 
A hand arrests, we stop, and never both, 
To-morrow over, shall again step forth 
Beneath the ancient blessing of these trees. 
What is there compensates? There should be life. 
And death for death is death. Weighs this with that, 

84 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

A sudden hurry, flash of swords, hearts still, 

With long great sweep of holy solemn days? 

River, I scorned a moment hence, yet calm 

As though I blessed, we Httle thought long since, 

When days were young and I came down to you, 

That some night, bright with gorgeous silver moon, 

And quietness hke autumn's quietness 

Enfolding us, that here my crowning joy. 

Life's long far quest, should end so wofully. 

The deed man's hand was never fashioned for. 

When morrow's sun hangs in the west, is done! 

And hence to-night we'll take our long farewell: 

Farewell, my youth's young heart's delight, farewell! 

And in the endless years you stray this way, 

Should you remember me, remember this : 

In those far-off times richly I have lived. 

From out your silence something came like love. 

Which was so splendid when my life began, 

So simple now. For then I saw great fields 

The mountains sloped to meet, and yonder woods 

With winding ways for princely solitude; 

And on some rolling hill, midway and fair, 

A castle standing, sky and sunshine there. 

And love in perfect state within; but now, 

Could hand clasp mine and lips frame love's low speech, 

'Twere all enough. No mellow sunshine first, 

Nor ivy-covered walls night glories in. 

Nor sweeping hills midway whose grassy slopes 

Are lost in mountains — just heart's fullness now! 

When morning's sun arose, this love was mine ; 

It sets: the love I thought was mine proves his. 

Who has not kept it pure and sacredly. 

O Heloise, not mine to love man's way. 

But all I have to love in all the world. 

Can you find richer heart than age gives me 

To save you with ? And he, can he love you 

85 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Whose love cannot reach high as highest God? 

And such a little day makes worlds of change! 

My river, calm when age is all in storm, 

Lift up your voice and be once more my friend; 

And teach me, longing for a life as wide 

As widest sea, the quiet peace you find 

In shadows here before you go to sea. 



86 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



III 

YOUTH AND AGE 



FULBERT. 



Heloise. 




Heloise. 

;HAT is it, Uncle? What a line is here. 
So deep my hand can hardly smooth it out! 
And, yes, a tear a-tremble on the lash — 
There, there, 'tis gone; now look straight up 
at me — 

Why, what a mist conceals these kind, best eyes! 
Uncle, I'll kiss each lid, and you must then. 
Must tell me what it is, my best of friends! 

Fulbert. 
My Heloise — I love to call you mine — 
No, do not take your arm away ; it rests 
About my neck in such a splendid curve — 
I like it there; it comforts me with peace. 

(He sinks into reverie.) 



Uncle ! 



Heloise. 

Fulbert. 
My years weigh heavy, Heloise. 



Heloise. 
And that is all? Who said when years came on 
That I should be the staff to feel the way 
Into the shadows? You forgetful uncle! 

87 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

FULBERT. 

If I forgot, God's staff should comfort me; 

'Twill prove at last, God 's best ! When ardent youth 

Along the rounded earth with beauty bound 

Sets eye, and measures up the starry vault. 

All seems complete; the winds are melodies, 

The plains are faith, the forests mystery, 

And mountains crown themselves with light of years ; 

Should love come then, the heavens bow, and God 

Again seems rich in blessing life. Let age, 

The summit of the years attained at last. 

Look forth, and yonder stretches vale untravelled, 

Some earth foot knows not. 

Heloise. 

You are sad for that? 
Why you have seen the best of earth: what more? 
No place that time has saved but you have seen; 
No beauty springing from the dark to light 
But you have started at ; where richness is 
Of men and arms, where glory waits the eye — 

FULBERT. 

Yes, you are right, I have seen that. 

Heloise. 

Perhaps, 
Where man has worked his life into some field, 
And called it home, but left it by his work 
None richer. — 

FULBERT, 

I have seen that too, but missed 
Living it. 

88 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



Heloise. 
You? 

FULBERT. 

I never told you this ; 
Forgive me if for once I dream aloud. 
My boy's life passed — how shall I say ? — alone ; 
Long trips afield to gain the shade of trees ; 
Waiting along the grass to hear the birds 
Should they unlock that somewhat earth kept close; 
Then wandering to where the river Hved, 
Finding friend unfailing, nor over old, 
And floating on with it, and watching how 
It eddied in among the bending reeds, 
Smiling in the sun and in the shadows calm ; 
Above some worthless stones, and scattered shells, 
Poor but for a white and sparkle, saying things 
I near made out, the whisper was so loud ; 
And then, for fear I should, to secret depths 
Withdrew and all was lost. Forgetful soon, 
With manner all resistless forth it came 
And lifted wave to break a flower's sleep. 
Or brought a little sunshine where with fins 
Slow-moving some great bright fish felt secure. 
And then a flash, was gone. My wonder was, — 
I never fathomed it, — this same strange heart 
Should leap and break itself where rocks were wild, 
Without return bring whiteness as of snow, 
By day such gleams of beauty, and by night 
A sound enchanting, yet when sea's voice called — 
A laughter in it seemed to me so rich — 
Grow still, intense, and cling to something dark 
Of field or tree, and then with kind of sob 
Go out to meet the wideness of the sea. 
What had the fields or trees worth loving so? 
The laughing sea came from the sky's own blue, 

89 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Could drift its snow, or be as blue as sky, 
And, oh, such bounding winds came over it! 
But now I know why river made no haste; 
Who knows the why of things to-day? But wait — 
To-morrow flashes light within the dark. 
You look as though this were a dream indeed ; 
Well, I confess, things cloud somewhat to-day. 
You know our favored spot where river stops 
And ere it goes to sea is still? Last night 
I stood there silent; when I laid my hand, 
In the old-time way, close beside its heart. 
No beat was wild, and I expected — 

Heloise. 

Well? 

FULBERT. 

For all your life, suppose, a single thing 
You wanted, missed it, gaining all things else ; 
Would you be happy? World would think you so, 
And so perhaps you should. I wanted love ; 
These things I mentioned gave it me; home, more. 
But home — because the earth had need of me. 
Or I perchance of it^ the end was one — 
Had slipped away into a memory 
Before I learned how good it was in truth. 
Much like some hopeful pilgrim seeking shrine 
Where East first breaks in day, and, rapt in joys. 
Though ways are over rocks, or lost in woods 
Whose tangles light is stranger to, is sure 
That there, when way is ended, journey done, 
Heart's prayer shall rise to depth of sky's vast blue. 
Nor mix with winds that wanton over lands 
And mock on seas, straight up where God may hear; 
So I went forth to seek the shrine of love : 
Gayly, when life was young, and hope was strong, 

90 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

And sunshine's blessing rested on my heart, 

And friends waved hands at parting; voices gay 

Came floating on the winds as I sped on, 

And music, till I passed below the hills; 

As way grew strange and long, I made sweet speech. 

And words were sweet that dropped as from the blue, 

And my thought was of one to hear and know 

We twain were wedded from the first of time : 

Sadly, when life was old and faith was calm, 

And sunset but a moment over hills. 

No friends were waving hands, for hands were still; 

Nor music; but a prayer that somewhere yet 

A face might change in tenderness for me. 

Last night where trees make dark that line of hills 

A light came forth and brake from out a star 

And moved me with the thoughts of other days; 

For in a perfect blue that other night 

A star was bright and was my guiding star 

With wonder all its own when quest began 

In those far-oflf times when my life was new. 

Oft I have seen it since, but till last night 

Never the same excelling perfect star. 

Last night love came. 

Heloise. 
You should be happy then. 

FULBERT. 

No: supremest love is sacred sorrow. 
By losing, not by finding, love is crowned. 

Heloise. 
I think love knows no want, no loss, no age. 

FULBERT. 

Youth's view ; how can you know love ? love is life. 

91 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Heloise. 

Know love ? Not all, no doubt ; who can know all ? 
But love's goodness — that height the blue stops not, 
The whole earth breaking forth in voices sweet — 
Know that? I do know that! 

FULBERT. 

Who taught you love? 

Heloise. 

Love has no lessons may be learned as tasks: 

It is a gift for aught I know as free 

As song birds sing; they waste no years for song; 

Some morning day stops a moment near a nest, 

Looks in, and what a melody awakes : 

God's richness makes love's goodness free as song. 

FULBERT. 

And you love? 

Heloise. 

Abelard. 

FULBERT. 

How long? 

Heloise. 

I think 
We twain were wedded from the first of time. 

FULBERT. 

And he loves you ? 

Heloise. 

As much as life : nay, more ; 
His life, he says, through me is made pure soul. 

92 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

FULBERT. 

And you believe this? 

Heloise. 
Know; he told me so. 

FULBERT. 

The love I found last night makes me sad. Yours? 

Heloise. 

makes me glad ! as if a splendid sun 
Made morning ever in my heart of hearts, 
And noon should find me home from over seas ! 

1 wish you too had found a love like that. 
Your kindness makes my Hfe surpassing rich ; 
You have been father, mother, home to me ; 

I love you for it, love not quite like this, — 
Don't close your eyes, — and when I pray each night, 
I pray that God, whose peace surpasses joy. 
May bless you with his peace. 

FuLBERT. 

That's quite enough. 
Go, now. Tell Abelard meet me to-night 
At sunset where the river stops awhile 
Before it goes to sea. 

(Alone.) Another star, 
I thought would linger, sets. My lone, last star! 
One thing remains, that Abelard be true. 



93 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

IV 

HAPPINESS 

Heloise. Abelard. 

Heloise. 

Y Abelard, how rich our meeting here; 
I had a troubled dream, and you were lost. 

Abelard. 

Soon found again, my soul's delight; not so? 
But let us sit, and tell me of this dream. 

Heloise. 

I dreamed I learned the miracle of love: 

The joy of love's first days we thought so much 

Was but the snow wave lifts along its crest. 

Light smiles on; the joy of living day by day, 

Each other's only, was the endless sea. 

No night grew live with stars, but wondered we 

If day could match the last; but spendthrift time. 

That wastes what centuries have starved to save. 

And saves some little thing age never saw. 

Brought beauty hidden from the jealous age, 

And each day something better than the last. 

And taught us how to find its ripe of heart. 

To gaze on till the silence there was gone. 

The watchful world, which wants of those who have. 

Saw light in eye it fathomed not, knew not. 

Conceiving thence this must be sin, spoke loud, 

94 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

And ruffled o'er the dream we drifted on: 

We could no longer meet, a gulf between, 

But voices passed, and hearts were ever brave; 

Then silence came, your voice was gone, your face, 

I saw so long, grew faint, as mountain's brow. 

When clouds are low and storm is near, grows dim. 

Until I could not know it as your own. 

The dream changed; you were banished, world was wild; 

I said, that man, proud yonder in all your scorn, 

I love, let me to him ; but hands were rough. 

While greater grew the distance, onward you ; 

One only followed you, some large-eyed youth 

Had climbed your holy hill, and there found you. 

But how your face held out of gates, eyes flashed, 

Nor once looked back on scenes you triumphed in ! 

Whilst noisy clang and shout were barring way 

Flower-strewn not long before for your approach. 

The one remained, and you together passed 

Where distant hermitage, fields bare, earth poor, 

Became a shelter from an open sky. 

They came again, those early loves, — like birds 

A noise sends on the wing, returning soon. 

When noise proves only noise, and food abounds, — 

By thousands came, and you stood up to teach. 

The same great you, and spoke as one in clouds, 

God near with laws and glory for mankind. 

Abelard. 

That seems prophetic; I could do just that. 
Small men cannot forgive pre-eminence; 
I am the first philosopher of the age, 
Accordingly men hate, may banish me: 
In spite of them I have been, shall be great. 
Some day the sun owns heaven, revels there; 
The next, gray everywhere; at eventide, 

95 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Should the sun come, 'tis cold, no more than light; 
On morrow reigns a king, I am that sun. 

Heloise. 
Wait. Fame had found you out; the world was kind, 
Came, praised, as though the past had never been. 
For them a golden way led forth to you, 
And I alone was kept from passing there. 
The years were long, at last were done, and grave 
Held you and me. Fame over, peace at last. 
But grave, that never opens door who knocks. 
Unsealed and yielded up our whitened bones. 
And hostile hands were free to rattle them — 

Abelard. 

Heloise, this is too horrible! 

Such dream is not prophetic: world may hate, 
But that ! — Come, let us think of good to-day. 

Heloise. 
Ah, yes, a dream, but it was very real — 
To feel Death held us ! — There, I've done with it. 
What brings you from your books this morning? 

Abelard. 

You. 

Heloise. 
Most gracious answer; say you, is it true? 
Or came a sunbeam over musty page. 
Some nameless monk transcribed when hands were numb. 
And challenged fancy hunt it to its lair. 
And brought you forth of doors ? 

Abelard. 

Yes, sunbeam came; 

1 followed, tracked it home, and came to you. 

96 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Heloise. 
Seeking sunbeam, chanced on me? Chance is kind, 
And yet unkind, for it is only chance. 

Abelard. 
A sunbeam lost its way, and came to me. 
With woful tale of places strange and dark. 
With tears that overflowed such winsome eyes, 
So wrought on me that I arose from books, 
Left problems men had weighed for centuries. 
And promised lead it home, clasped trusting hand. 
And over fields we came, and are with you. 
What is it worth? 

Heloise. 
For half-dried eyes, a kiss ; 
For you? — ^would you be satisfied with thing 
That rests as lightly on the lips as blue 
Upon the sea? 

Abelard. 

The sea is black by night, 
And gray in storm, but blue for happy sky. 
I would be happy. 

Heloise. 
Happy? High as soul 
Be happy then ! 

Abelard. 

As lightly as the blue 
On open sea, but long as life, a kiss ! 

Heloise. 
Tell, love, how many thoughts of me last night? 

Abelard. 
As many as the stars, more beautiful ; 
As many as you thought of me. Enough? 

97 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Heloise. 
No : you must think more ; twice, at least, for once. 

Abelard. 
Why twice for once? 

Heloise. 

You have books, world, fame, me; 
You must give thought to them — my thought is you. 
Forth from your study came last night two thoughts ; 
Were they as rich as someone's soul that came 
When all was still ? You should have said your heart, 
For hearts are hearts, — yours, mine, — was mine last night, 
To-day, forever. 

Abelard. 

Know you not it is? 

Heloise. 

So well ! What a beggar I to barter thus 
My young life's heart for great and kingly yours ! 
Me you have richly clad in love's rich purple. 
But you, my kingly heart, must be content 
With something like a perfect faith in you — 

Abelard. 

Who moves among the trees ? Why, 'tis Fulbert, 
His eyes bent close upon the ground — he turns. 
Should he find us here — 

Heloise. 

He knows everything, 
I told him all last night. 

Abelard. 
What were his words? 
98 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Heloise. 
They were of love, — his love, — but not like ours ; 
He said supremest love was sacred sorrow. 

Abelard. 
He censured? — 

Heloise. 
No. He bids you come to-night 
And wait at sunset where the river stops 

Before it goes to sea. 

Abelard. 
Why there to-night? 

Heloise. 
I do not know. He came from there last night. 
The moon was all a-wonder, fair and high, 
And made such splendor in the earth ; I sat, — 
You know my window fingers silent now 
So richly wrought in colors marvellous, — 
There by my window, happy in the light. 
When he came forth beneath that arch of trees 
We waited by when nightingale was glad. 
Slowly he came, then stopped, stood long, looked up, 
Then on, straight home, and sent for me. 

Abelard. 

(Aside.) Strange, strange. 

Heloise. 
Oh, he has been so good! I wish he knew, 
Not that gray mist of love, but love like ours. 
Light everywhere! To-night should he say love. 
Teach him as you taught me joy crowns love's height, 
And never sorrow. Lonely, kind, true man! 
You must go? Will you come to-morrow, love? 
And all to-night when moon stops over trees, 
So large and wonder in its golden face. 
Remember where I sit, and look, and wish. 
Remember, love! 

99 




THE VOICE OF THE PINE 



V 

MERCY 

(Enter Abelard, alone.) 

Abelard. 
^HE sun is near to setting, this the place, 
But Fulbert — has he heard what Paris talks? 
Out on them, idle minds ! To hide their sins 
They turn a light on someone passing, cry. 
And devil does the rest. The holy mob — 
At least, once holy, God created them — 
Stay, Fulbert comes. The best the hour affords. 
My gracious Fulbert. What is your pleasure here ? 

Fulbert. 
No pleasure — pain. I came to speak with you. 

Abelard. 

That gives you pain? The meeting was your wish, 
Not my election. 

Fulbert. 

Mistake me not too soon. 
It is not time for temper yet. Wait, wait. 
Last night I wore a sword to kill you. Start ? 
To-day I tell you of it, wear no sword. 
Though you have yours. I read a story once, 
And since have known it word by word ; of yore 
A king, with goodly treasures, flocks, and fields, 
Saw by the way a lamb a poor man loved, 
Had cherished in his bosom, was his all ; 
But when a stranger came he spared his flocks 

100 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

And took the poor man's lamb. A voice arose, 

Saying, Thou art the man — You ! Start again ? 

Right, you should. All the world was yours to take, 

Or let alone. You had but beck, men came; 

But speak, they bowed ; but raise your hand, they knelt, 

And worshipped you. In present centuries 

No man has reached the height you hold alone. 

And in the years to come to height so high 

Man cannot climb but he must see of you; 

To-day, to-morrow, ever, fame for you. 

In the city yonder thousands sing your songs, 

Songs costing you no pang of heart, and say, 

A voice is heard again within the world. 

But we, my Heloise and I, were here 

In home of simple love, were happy. You 

We heard of, I bade enter in, and why? 

To add somewhat to fame already yours? 

Or beg of you some richness you could spare ? 

We were too poor to give, too rich to ask. 

You had a gift you sold, — hence was all men's, — 

Learning : she needed that, my Heloise ! 

For Paris you might spread ambrosial board ; 

We wanted crumb, not begged, and were content. 

You know the rest — remains to tell you this. 

That when I learned last night that you were false, — 

I am too old to know world's niceties, — 

False with my Heloise, I vowed a vow 

To kill you first, and leave the rest to fate. 

But when I found she loved you — you know that — 

Love ? Why, each foot of ground among my fields 

By day and night I've walked on, saying low. 

No one might hear, the day now is when love, 

And better love than I had sought, is mine. 

To be within a maiden's heart is safe; 

And hers gave me not your warm love youth knows. 

But a kind of care and tenderness age needs, 

lOI 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

Which age alone has learned is best of love. 
You come, need nothing, are most rich therefore ; 
You see me look as if at something great, 
Stop, look yourself, ignore my need, and add 
To something large enough, a little thing 
For you means moment's pleasure, means for me 
Life. Roses everywhere for you to choose; 
A bush I cultured, thorns not over-kind, 
And pricking flesh most often, bears one rose 
I watch unfold. As watcher for the morn 
Lifts thankful eyes above the breaking light. 
And blesses back day's goodness, so I blessed, 
From whence it came, each faintest blush of rose ; 
And when its whole day broke along the sky, 
And I was bowed in prayer, my first real prayer 
That life was good, your careless hand caught rose. 
And I am left a bush where it has been. 
You young, I old, you rich, I poor in joys, 
Yet you must tangle life's sad destiny, 
My holy hours mar, knowing they are few. 
Will soon be over, never more to come. 
There is that compensates: who has must use; 
What I have worshipped many years is yours. 
Yours evermore — my sacred Heloise ! 
I meant you death, I leave you life for her; 
Fail not. 

Yonder you see the setting sun : 
Only a gold Hke fire among the trees ; 
Over the river, through the oaks, a shore 
And sea, and then there lies a golden path 
For you to travel on to meet the sun. 
Go.— 

What, Egbert! Why stirring? 

Egbert. 

Abelard 
And I, when moon stands there, meet here to-night. 

102 



THE VOICE OF THE PINE 

FULBERT. 

I catch your drift, he will be here, fear not. 

Listen : last night, when moon made day of fields, 

And I was moving homeward, there at window, 

Looking her soul across these ancient trees. 

Sat Heloise. Why? When you cross the fields, 

Have met with Abelard, should you look up, 

I doubt not, could you see in eyes and face 

Love's glory there we are too old to know. 

New thoughts would come to you. When moon stands there, 

And you and Abelard are face to face, 

I think her prayers may rise among the stars. 

And she shall think God answers her and keeps. 

As in the hollow of his hand, the one 

She loves. I heard the river's song last night; 

Its burden was of waiting, hasting not, 

Of getting all yourself before you sweep 

To sea — man's self before he faces God. 

Remember, Egbert. 



103 



Cije ^otce of tije l^im 



Jfl^^ ^ong, toe toait je^ome future time, 
jltTl. ^jjen ro^e^ tiloom anti S^une x^ jjrime, 

for men to learn of tjjee* 
^ lobe tfjee more tjjan toljen 3^ (jearti, 
far ^lueeter tfjan ^ome ^toeet^^boiceti Birti, 
€l)p boice fir^t from our long^lobeti tree 
45ibe anjBftDer tiacfe to i^pmning ^ea. 

^Ijat matter^ it for tJjee anti me 
l^one iobe ttjee pet nor jefeem to ^tt 

§on ^ail anb all of toljite ? 
Strong biaj^ tljp bjorb anb mabe me brabe 
Wf^m ober jefea tlje brifting biabe 
i^ab brifteb ^efail beponb all ^igl)t, 
5ilnb left me bjitlj tlje jeftarjef anb nigljt. 



K fly -18. IfiKn 



MAY 11 1901 



